


Love Like You

by ColdSushi



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adopted Peter Parker, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Baby Peter Parker, Bruce is a sweetheart, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), I had to orphan this three times because AO3 kept fucking up ok, Implied Cheating, Insomniac Tony Stark, Intense Fighting, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Compliant, Passionate Kissing Scenes, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stony - Freeform, Superfamily, This story gets fucking wild, Tony has PTSD, its been a long night, science bros if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14858258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdSushi/pseuds/ColdSushi
Summary: Civil War didn’t end the way either team wanted. But they did what had to be done. They could only hope that one day they could reunite with one another.OrThe one where Steve comes back home to his broken husband, a board meeting, and a shy toddler.





	1. The One Where Steve Apologizes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! This is my first multi chapter fic, so comments and kudos are appreciated!

“Sir, it’s time for you to wake.” 

JARVIS spoke over the loudspeaker, earning a disgruntled groan from Tony, whom rolled to his side and covered his head as a burst of air from the vents was directed to him. Reminding himself to disconnect JARVIS from the access of those, he slowly sat up, yawning and shuffling to the bathroom.

“Master Stark, there’s a bit of an issu—“ JARVIS began, only to be cut off by Tony. 

“The only issue is that I haven’t had my morning coffee, and you’re talking to me. Tell Dum-E to make me a cup before I throw him with the scraps.” He muttered, and opened the door to his master bathroom, taking care of his business and brushing his teeth and hair. He exited the restroom, taking the stairs down to the kitchen, cracking his back, and accepting a warm cup of coffee from his robotic assistant. 

“As I was saying— Your conference for today has been rescheduled to Friday, and the Board wants you there in person. Looks like you’ll be there for a few days as well, meeting other party members.” JARVIS pulled up a screen, and Tony waved it from his vision. “You’re serious? The hell do they want that’s so important that they can’t hologram me.” He took a sip of his coffee, spitting it back in his cup. “Right. This coffee is absolute garbage. Dum-E, I’m scrapping you.” The robot whirred in complaint, shaking as it grabbed the cup of distasteful coffee, pouring it out and making a new one. It made a pitiful cry as it’s joints argued against it, but nonetheless continued on.

Accepting a second cup with slight hesitancy, Tony took a sip and raised it to Dum-E, who whirred and raised his single arm happily. The old robot scooted away, off to clean up after Tony in his lab. “Master Stark, I suggest you look at this.” JARVIS pulled another hologram to Tony’s line of vision, the creator giving a sigh as he read over the files. He furrowed his eyebrows together, tilting his head a bit. “They want my element? What’re they planning to do with it?” Tony quizzed, taking a small sip from his coffee. 

Exhaling deeply, he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearing his throat and closing out the holograms.

“What do they want with it?”

“It’s classified. They want to discuss it in person.”

“Well then hack their damn files and tell me what’s in it.”

“I can’t, sir.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“It’s encrypted with a technology I’m not familiar with.”

Groaning, Tony set his coffee out on the table and turned his attention to the toaster, slipping three pieces of bread into it. “Great. I’ve got them down my neck about something we don’t even know about. How am I supposed to prepare myself?” Receiving no answer from JARVIS, he rubbed at his temples, exiting the kitchen and hurrying up the steps to the bedroom floor. He needed to get Peter up for the day— if he wasn’t already. 

Opening the door slowly, a soft grin blessed Tony’s lips as he melted against the sound of soft ‘Mm, Mm’’s coming from the toddler in his crib. Slowly entering the room, Tony slunk his arms over the railing of the crib, placing his hand inside and patting the child’s butt gently to coax him awake. The child, Peter, whined— fussing a bit in his crib to not wake just yet. 

“C’mon baby— up!” 

Tony cooed, continuing to pat Peter’s rump to wake him up further. He grunted, and began to squirm, a soft yawn escaping his mouth as Tony picked him up. “Hi bugaboo. Did you sleep nice?” He cooed, placing the boy on his plastic changing station, pressing his lips against the child’s cheek and giving him a couple of kisses. Peter squealed, pushing Tony away with his tiny hands and kicking his legs. Gently grabbing Peter’s ankles with his left hand, Tony proceeded to unbutton his onesie with his right, pulling it up and undoing his diaper. Doing a quick wipe down of his nappy area, Tony tossed the soaked pamper in the trash, replacing it with a fresh one and taping the sides. 

“All done!” Tony gasped excitedly, earning a sweet giggle from Peter. Buttoning back the onesie, Tony quickly fixed Peter’s yellow socks, picking him up again and placing him at his hip. “Okay, we’re gonna brush your teeth, and get you some nummies.” Tony rounded the corner to his room, heading into the bathroom and placing Peter on the sink counter. Running the water, he placed a dry rag stained with toothpaste under Peter’s chin, making an engine sound and coaxing a paste covered toothbrush into Peter’s mouth. He fussed for a bit, but allowed Tony to brush the few teeth he had.

“Okay, buga. Spit.” Tony grabbed the toddler by his waist, hoisting him over the sink and allowing him to spit in, using his hand to wash his face and rinse his mouth. “Good boy!” Tony gasped kissing his shoulder and watching the boy hiss out a cackle. “You wanna walk or do you want daddy to carry you?” Tony quizzed, raising an eyebrow as he watched Peter twist his torso to look at him, placing a hand on his lips and looking up to the ceiling, humming softly. Something that Peter must’ve picked up from Tony. The child then gave a wide smile, kicking his legs and pointing to them. “Wak!” He smiled, and the corners of Tony’s eyes crinkled.

“Okay, baby.” 

Placing Peter down, Tony held his hand as they tiptoed down the step one foot at a time, Peter successfully reaching the end, big brown eyes looking up to Tony for acceptance that he did well. Tony smiled, clapping his hands and cheering, earning a squeal from Peter. 

With this kid, Tony’s worries could magically wash away. Something that would take days of staying up in his lab, could be resolved in minutes of being with his adoptive son. He was his world. His light at the end of a dark tunnel. Ushering Peter to his highchair, Tony set the bread to heat up a bit longer; getting to work on making a bottle of milk for Peter. The boy cooed happily in his chair, babbling and smacking at things that Tony couldn’t see. Once Tony finished the bottle, he placed it on the dashboard of Peter’s chair, the boy eagerly grabbing it and placing it in his mouth, his eyes drooping down as he scratched the side of his head. A gentle smile formed on Tony’s features as he took the butter from the fridge, stopping the toaster and blowing on the toast to cool it, lathering on butter and placing it on the table before Peter, alongside a peeled banana. 

As Peter ate, he buttered his own toast, eating at the bread nervously, sipping coffee that seemed quite bland to him now. No, Tony was too worried to eat. He had a trip to go on for the weekend, and he wasn’t going to let a toddler stay alone. Peter was a kid, and kids needed things. Constantly.

So who could watch the kid? 

Bruce was sensitive when it came to kids. He was also fairly shy, only open for new things if Tony was with him. He wondered if Bruce even remembered Peter’s name. Clint had his own monsters to take care of. Natasha? Maybe. Maybe she’d work. But she was off hiding from the world with Falcon and...He’d consider Clint. He supposed Clint would be his best bet. His only bet. 

He exhaled.

“JARVIS, contact Barton for me. Give him a message asking if he’ll be free this weekend.” He shifted uncomfortably.

“Promise him a comfortable environment suited to all his needs. Something extravagant.” 

Tony poured out his coffee and finished his food, washing the dishes and raising an eyebrow at Dummy, who whistled sadly as he entered the kitchen, his arm falling off and hitting the ground with a loud clang. 

“Oh, dude. Really? I just fixed you.” Tony grumbled, and hurried to the robot, sticking the arm back. It fell off again, and Tony shook his head. “Guess I’m going to the hardware shop. I don’t have the bolts you need.” Dummy whirred, and Tony scoffed. Turning his attention to Peter, the child hummed a ‘Dada’ and stuck his hand in his mouth, banging his arm on his tray. 

“All finished? That was fast.” 

Most of the food landed on the floor, and on Peter’s bare arms and legs. He’d have to give him a bath. Unhooking the tray and dumping out the mashed food and milk, Tony quickly washed it and set it to dry, unbuckling Peter and letting him rest on his hip. 

Maybe he’d take a bath with him. 

~*~

“Daddy’s going to get dressed, so play with Smiley, okay?” 

Tony placed a clean and dressed Peter in his playpen, earning a few gasps and disheartening sobs from the child. “No!” He latched onto Tony’s finger, causing the older man to sigh softly, and gently pet the child’s hair. Whimpering, Peter reluctantly let go of Tony, crawling over to his stuffed rabbit and pressing her close to his chest. Smiling, Tony nodded and exited the play room, hurrying to his own room to throw on something simple. A rather nerdy gimmick shirt, some jeans, and sneakers that told other people how just how rich he was.

“Er— Sir— wouldn’t it be more logical if I ordered the tools for you? As per usual?” JARVIS spoke, and Tony shook his head as he grabbed a set of car keys. “Shouldn’t you be trying to reach Clint? Stop slacking off.” JARVIS scoffed, and Tony gave a smirk of satisfaction.

Hurrying back into Peter’s play room, Tony grabbed a soft yellow and white hip carrier from a hook, slipping it under his arm and blowing a kiss to a fussy Peter, who made grabbing motions to Tony. He figured that they wouldn’t be out for long, so he didn’t need anything for Peter. Though just to be safe, he grabbed one of Peter’s favorite teething rings, and wiggled it into the toddler’s mouth. Tony was fairly good at keeping up with Peter’s supplies, so they didn’t need anything from the store. 

“Alright buga, up you go.” 

Tony hummed, placing Peter on his hip and carefully walking down the steps for the third time that day, taking the elevator to the garage and inhaling the crisp air. He’d have to take Peter on a trip out of the city someday. Unlocking his car and placing Peter in his car seat, Tony hurried to the driver’s side and started the engine, taking a quick trip to a nice Home Depot. 

After arriving, Tony slid Peter out of his seat and into his carrier, adjusting him to sit comfortably on his hip as he chewed on his ring and kicked his feet happily. Ensuring he locked his car, Tony set for the store, slipping some shades on himself and the baby. He hadn’t been out of the house since— the fight. And with Pepper leaving him a while back, Tony got disgustingly low. So, after reconciling with Bruce and Thor, he decided he needed another member of the family. Something to keep his mind and hands busy. Something to ground him in the same way Steve did. 

He adopted Peter. 

Yes, he knows how strange it sounds. Tony Stark, the ultimate playboy rich guy, with a child? No, that wasn’t right. But that was his cover up. That’s what he’d tell Peter when he got older. And not the fact that he and Tony were abandoned by Steve so he could be with his friend. Yeah, his friend who was much more important than his fiancé and son. Tony grimaced at the thought. 

Inhaling sharply as he entered the store, Tony kept a straight face as he was immediately bombarded by kids with phones, recording him and begging for answers as to where he’s been. And who the hell was that kid on his back. Peter didn’t seem to mind, and instead was thrown into a fit of laughter at the bright lights and sudden attention. These people were silly! Grabbing a cart, Tony rounded a corner, humming to himself as he searched for the tools he needed. Nuts? Maybe. He’d need some tiny screwdrivers too.

~*~

“I don’t get why Sam needs tools from this particular Home Depot in this particular part of the world. It feels like something spectacular is going to happen, and I’m not ready for it.” Steve threw his arms up, earning stares from other people. He flustered, and bowed his head. 

“Because, they have the cheapest prices. And we were passing by New York. I figured, why not stop at the Depot I went to everyday?” Sam spoke from next to Natasha, who audibly rolled her eyes. 

“Right. And you couldn’t do it because—?” 

“I have a broken leg, and that’s food for the paparazzi. ‘Sam Wilson breaks leg doing the ‘Twerk’.” He headlined, earning a chuckle from Natasha, and a strained laugh from Steve. 

“Oh yeah? Like I’m not food for the paparazzi either. Steve Rogers, dead or lumberjack?”

“You chose that lifestyle.”

“And you chose to break your leg.”

“Remember my list, Steven. Or I’m punching you in your perfect white teeth.”

The line clicked, and Steve shook his head. How nice. Sighing, he slipped his phone back into his pocket, grabbing his cart and wheeling it down the aisle. Sam needed something to fix his wings. He said something about needing some type of glass? They had a pretty fierce battle not too long ago, and his armor was totaled. Reason six why Steve’s shield was just so much better. 

Steve had zoned out when he’d heard someone scream out, his fighter instincts rumbling in his stomach as he sped down the aisle, taking a sharp breath to ask the person if they were okay, only to hear another scream and see a small girl bounce up and down. Oh, no, they were fangirls. Someone important had to be here. Frowning and shuffling to an older woman, he tapped her shoulder to whisper to her. “Hey, what’s all the noise about?” He muttered, earning an appalled look from the woman. “It’s Tony Stark! And he’s got some sorta kid with him!” She snickered, chewing horse like on a wad of gum. 

His heart dropped, and he stuck his hands into his pockets. Tony was here. Tony was here. And a kid? He hoped to god she didn’t mean—

He had to help. 

Diving into the crowd, he caught a quick glimpse of Tony shielding his eyes from the bright glare of phone flashes, the toddler on his back seeming to no longer enjoy the attention he was given. Instead, he whimpered and buried his face into Tony’s chest, his tiny hand balled up into a fist around the man’s shirt. 

“Excuse me. I came to shop, and you’re not letting me shop.”

“How old is he?”

“What’s his name?”

“Who’s the mother?”

“He doesn’t look like you!”

Tony took a step back, about ready to leave the store when a taller figure wrapped his arm around his waist, ushering him through the crowd with a practiced ease. They hurried to the back of the store, where the paparazzi of teenagers groaned and turned on their heels to theorize amongst themselves. Tony exhaled deeply once they were safe, taking the glasses off of Peter’s face and giving it to the child to fumble with. He babbled happily. 

Tony chuckled, dark chocolate eyes looking from his son, then to the ground. “Hey, thanks. I owe you one…” He trailed off as his eyes looked to the man, his orbs narrowing as his throat dried. It was Steve. Steve rescued him from paparazzi. Just like how he rescued Tony from Bucky by impaling him with his own father’s shield. Tony’s face warped into something of anger, and then sadness, and frustration? Steve wondered how someone could make so many expressions at once. Maybe he did the same thing. 

“Tony,” 

Steve began, his voice lowering to a whisper. He wondered how the man could recognize him. Steve looked nothing like he did before. He had a thick lumberjack beard, and his hair wasn’t as bright and vibrant as before. It was longer, and looked a shade or two darker. If it hadn’t been for those hesitant baby blues, Tony doubted he would have recognized him. 

“I thought you left. Off to save the world with your other team.” Tony subconsciously clutched Peter closer to him, earning a small hic from the boy in response. “I was but,” He gave a forced chuckle. “Sam needed some supplies. We were just passing New York to go upstate.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes traveling down Tony to the bundle of gibberish on his hip. “Is this who I think it is?” He smiled, that damn loving smile that Tony forgot he missed. Peter cocked his head to the side, noticing that Steve had his attention on him. He quickly covered his face with his tiny hands, shuddering slightly. Steve forgot how shy he could be. Reaching out a hand to touch him, Tony immediately jerked back. “No! Don’t touch him!” His voice raised to a shout, and a few people gave them worried glances. For Tony and his baby. Not for Steve. He couldn’t help but wonder if any of them recognized him.

“I—“ Steve began, the glare in Tony’s eyes dared him to retort. He rest his arm back at his side, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Tony cursed under his breath, grunting and turning on his heel to leave. A warm hand was pressed down onto his shoulder, and he whipped his head around to glare at it. 

“I want to talk.”

“I think you’ve done enough talking.”

“Tony, please.”

“Steve.”

“We’ve been driving for a long time. Could we at least use your place as a pit stop? If not for me, then for Natasha and Sam?” Steve shamelessly begged, watching as Peter peeked from his hiding spot to look up at Tony. Though he wondered if the toddler knew what was going on, he thanked those puppy eyes for forcing Tony to succumb to defeat. He gave a slow nod, and Steve smiled, breaking away from Tony to buy the things they needed. 

~*~

After splitting up to buy what they needed and heading in their respective cars to the former Avengers Tower, Tony allowed them access to the balcony floor, watching with slight amusement as they relaxed into his couches. He set Peter on the ground, the boy immediately kicking off his shoes and throwing the bandana formerly around his neck to the side. He happily squealed, standing on his tiptoes and running into an empty sofa. It was humorous to say the least, watching Peter poke out his stomach as he waddled after his stray toys. Off to play, Tony smiled.

The first one to speak was surprisingly Natasha.

“I don’t want to pretend like things are normal, because they’re not. I don’t think they ever will be,” She crossed her legs as Tony poured himself a drink. “But I’d like to at least thank you. For allowing us to stay. Things haven’t been easy, being on the run and all.” Tony took a sip, his eyes flickering cautiously to Peter who waddled from the sofa and over to his vacuum cleaner. The toy obnoxiously rattled as he pushed it. 

“Yeah. Ross and his goonies are pretty stuck up on coming after us. Y’know, since someone decided to partner with him.” Sam remarked a little too loudly, the entire room stiffening up. Peter chewed on his teething ring obliviously. 

“Oh, so now we’re playing the blame game? Who’s fault was it to run off after his friend, rather than turning him in to be properly taken care of?” Tony took another sip, and Steve abruptly stood.

“You leave Bucky out of this.”

“Like you left me and Peter? Oh yeah, real masculine.”

“Tony. You know that I didn’t mean to—“ 

“To hurt us? Yeah, well you did. I’m sure you didn’t care though. You were too busy acting all macho for someone who wasn’t there for you like your own godforsaken husband was.” 

“Now that’s just not true.”

“You left us. You left me. You left your son. For a friend.”

“You wanted us arrested!”

“It was for the greater good.”

“Yeah? Wouldn’t the greater good be offering someone who clearly needed the help a hand? You were looking after yourself, Tony.”

“I could’ve died, Rogers. You impaled me.” Tony pointed to where his arc reactor formerly sat. “My son would have woken up with one of his father’s out of his life, and the other dead. “Tell me, how old is he?” Tony gestured to the toddler.

Steve’s mouth dried, and he looked at the boy. “Two.”

Tony slammed his glass down, the cup cracking upon the impact. “He’s fifteen months, Rogers!” He raised his voice, bring up a fist and clenching it to remind him to stay calm. “Fifteen.” He spoke between gritted teeth.

Peter stopped playing, looking up pitifully at Tony. “Daddy?” He called out, tears whelming in his eyes from the sudden shouting. “Shh, baby. Daddy’s okay.” Tony hummed, shooting the child an ironic warm smile. Peter nodded, and waddled to his toy crate, pulling out a perfectly kept notebook, as well as a stray crayon. He set to work on a drawing that he’d forget to give Tony later. 

Steve sat down, furrowing his eyebrows together. Peter was barely one. Had five months really flown past? He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing and looking over to Tony. Sam placed a hand on Steve’s back, in a, ‘Things’ll get better’ way. Yeah, sure, Steve didn’t handle things as great as he wanted to, he nonetheless tried. Sam couldn’t be mad at Steve as long as he tried. Things would take some getting used to, he supposed. He was gifted with a guilty sigh.

~*~

The rest of the day went surprisingly smooth. Peter slowly grew around to Tony’s slightly unwelcomed houseguests, and Tony felt himself loosening too. They’d just finished some italian takeout, and Peter slept peacefully in Tony’s arms. He applauded himself quietly for being able to bathe him before he fell asleep. At the moment, they were gathered around the den, watching a movie on Tony’s high tech T.V. Natasha had a cup of tea in her hands, her short hair tied into a wet bun. Steve, Natasha, and Sam were decked in some sort of mitch matched outfit from Tony’s closet, not having their appropriate sizes was difficult enough, and the clothes they did have was in the wash. 

“I’m gonna go and put Peter to bed.” Tony stood, clutching the child to his chest as he thought quietly to himself. Things were so- weird. He contemplated just putting Peter in his bed for the night, rather than in his crib. 

“Wait, Tony. Let me come too. I—“ Steve paused, the whites of his eyes glistening in the blues of the T.V light. Tony wasn’t sure if he was capable of having a normal conversation, but he gave a slow nod and gestured Steve to follow him. 

They arrived to Tony’s floor shortly, taking only a short elevator ride up. Tony’s body was tired. He’d been so tense for so long, that things hadn’t started hitting him until now. He was confused— and worried. But he was glad Steve was back. That much he did know. At least, he hoped that’s what it was. 

After a practiced walk to Peter’s room, Tony allowed himself to give a proud scoff at Steve’s amazement of the upgrade the room was given. Tony laid Peter in the crib, kissing his head and tucking him underneath a light blanket. Leaving the door open, Tony sighed and turned on his heels back to the elevator.

“Is there someplace you want to go?” Steve muttered, and Tony nodded his head. 

They’d gone back to the balcony, where they could overlook the city. 

Tony stood near the windows, crossing his arms and watching the streets below. Steve sighed, standing next to him and doing the same. 

“Listen, Tony.” He began, his eyes flickering with an emotion that Tony couldn’t figure out.  
“I’m sorry.” Steve whispered, his knuckles turning white. 

“I ran, because I was confused. You guys have no idea how much it meant to me for me to see Bucky again. They told me he was dead. He wasn’t. He was right there, alive and well. I was scared for him. Because if he was captured by you guys, he’d definitely be gone for good.” Steve’s voice cracked, and Tony snapped his head up to look at him. 

“Steve,” Tony began, cracking his fingers nervously. “I’m so mad at you.”

“i figured.”

“I have a lot going on. I never really got over the battle New York, and Peter’s been stressing me the fuck out with his teething, and my parents weren’t killed by accident.” He let out a disbelieving cough, and turned his back to the scenery. His eyes were glossed over, and he looked up to the ceiling, his brows knitting together. “And now I’m going to be leaving Peter behind for a few days, so I have to find someone to watch him—“ Tony covered his face with his hand, exhaling loudly. He wanted to sleep for a thousand years. “I wasn’t meant to be a father, Steve. Not alone. I’m frustrated with you, and myself for not being the father Peter deserves.”

“Hey, Tony.” Steve sighed, moving to pull the shorter figure close to him. He prayed Tony wouldn’t scream. He did, however, move himself away. “We’re here now. I’m here now. If this wasn’t meant to be then—“ He uncovered his face. His eyes moved a step ahead from glossy, to red and puffing. “I would’ve walked right by you in that Home Depot.” He whispered, the sudden need to keep his voice low overwhelming for some odd reason. This conversation was only meant for Tony and he. Steve waited so long for this moment, to hold Tony again and apologize for years. His blood throbbed in his ears, and he could feel the embarrassment in his nose spreading to his cheeks like wildfire. He ducked his head down slowly, to press his lips against the other’s, when a calloused hand interrupted.

“Let’s take things slow, Steve. I need figure things out.”

Steve nodded, returning back to the scenery and watching it in silence as Tony walked away. 

~*~

Tony thought quietly to himself as he battered a bowl of eggs the next morning. Peter wasn’t up yet, he had the baby monitor/holographic imagery next to him clarify. Dum-E still whirred quietly from the lab with U, who spoke to him in some evil cryptic language to calm him down. Unfortunately, Tony set to work on making his own coffee. He was halfway through with the pancakes when he saw Peter beginning to fuss in his crib, the boy climbing onto his knees and whipping his head around to look for Tony. His eyes watered, and he looked just about ready to cry when someone hummed, and Tony quickly grabbed the screen. Appearing from the doorframe was Steve, and Tony tensed up again.

“Hey, buddy.” Steve hummed, reaching over the side of the crib to pull out Peter, who whipped his head around to see if Tony was hiding. He began to pull at Steve’s clothes, banging his tiny fists on his shoulder as he cried out for Tony. “Dada! Mm’ Daddy!” He sniffed, his crying becoming a bit slurred as Steve bounced him up and down to calm him, doing a few laps around the room. Peter eventually calmed, finding comfort in grabbing onto Steve’s surprisingly long hair. He mumbled, and stuck his fist into his mouth, cooing softly as Steve laid him on the changing station, swapping out Peter’s soiled diaper for a new one with an ease he never forgot. Tony shifted uncomfortably. What happened between Tony and Steve shouldn’t disrupt the relationship Steve and Peter had. Tony reluctantly continued to cook. 

Snapping back Peter’s onesie and grabbing the child to head downstairs, Peter began to fuss and he slapped his hands against Steve’s shoulder again. “No!” He cried, making grabby hands to what seemed to be the bathroom. “What’re you going in there for?” Steve quizzed, his eyes widening a bit when Peter opened his mouth, revealing half a jaw of teeth. Wow, how much of this kid did he miss?

Nodding his head and taking him to the bathroom, Steve allowed Peter to step up on a stool, watching as the toddler grabbed a red and blue toothbrush, helping him put some toothpaste on the brush and shakingly brush his teeth. He spat in the sink, looking up to Steve for applause but only receiving a curious look. Peter bowed his head, climbing off of the stool and grabbing Steve’s leg, about ready to cry. Though Steve didn’t notice, he picked the toddler up again and bounded down the steps, stepping over a still sleeping Natasha and Sam. 

Tony closed out the hologram, replacing it with a news report that he wasn’t interested in. Flipping the pancakes onto a plate, he turned his attention to the incoming Steve and Peter. “Daddy!” Peter squealed, wiggling out of Steve’s arms and waddling as fast as he could to a kneeling Tony, who picked him up with an eloquent spin. “Hi baby! You’re up super early!” Tony grinned, kissing Peter’s lips and watching the toddler kick his legs in excitement. “Papa!” He giggled pointing to a pouting Steve, never minding the sudden lock jawed expression on Tony’s face. “You remember your Papa?” Tony breathed, placing Peter on the counter as he set plates. Peter nodded. Something must’ve clicked in Peter. He was shy, afraid to go near Steve yesterday, and now he knew Steve was his second father? Tony wondered if the child was a lot smarter than he appeared to be. “Why don’t you get your Papa to wake up Natasha and Sam?” Tony’s face warped back into a smile, and Peter nodded, kicking his legs and making grabby hands to Tony. “Down, Daddy!” He rushed Tony, standing on his tippy toes and running over to Steve, grabbing his hand and leading him to the separate air beds Natasha and Sam lie on. 

Tony sighed, setting the kitchen table and ripping up the pancakes into smaller pieces for Peter’s tray, alongside a small batch of eggs. He ripped open an orange and decorated it alongside the tray. Peter came back with a barely functioning Sam and tense Natasha in tow, and they all ate together in silence. 

Maybe Tony could do this.


	2. The One Where Steve Tries Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve tries to understand Tony, Tony has an anxiety attack and tries to seduce Bruce, and Thor is beautiful. 
> 
> Little warning for Tony’s anxiety attack and discussed sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! This chapter should’ve been up sooner, but I decided to revise it and take some things out.

**Things wouldn’t get any better** than how they were now. It would never be the same.

Tony realized this, when Peter begged to be taken out of his highchair after breakfast, remembering the picture he never gave to Tony. He realized this, when he and the remaining adults ate in a tension that you couldn’t cut with a butchers knife. What little hope that Tony had of rekindling things with Steve dwindled slowly, and he wondered if the other thought the same thing.

Though Steve wasn’t too hungry, he couldn’t deny that he missed the warm taste of his husband’s food. Once Peter left, the atmosphere shifted, and Steve suddenly felt the strong urge to regurgitate everything in his stomach. He figured it was wrong of him to not finish his food, so he swallowed it down, washing his dishes and hurrying to the living room to plop himself down on the couch. God knows he wanted everything to just be normal again. He wished that when Tony saw him in that Home Depot, that he wrapped his arms around the other in a loving embrace, reminding Steve that he forgave him, and he missed him. Rolling onto his side, Steve watched with weary eyes as Peter scribbled on a piece of paper. He knew that he’d have to leave again, and he  wasn’t sure if he was ready or not.

The toddler stood up after another minute, grabbing his paper and running for the kitchen where everyone seemed to be clearing up. He ran headfirst into Tony’s leg, pulling on his pants and grunting to get his attention. “Daddy!” He bounced up and down, showing Tony his drawing of scribbles that were meant to be people. Tony stumbled back a bit, but grabbed the paper and studied it. It wasn’t anything too special, just some blobs that were supposed to represent the avengers that Peter knew. He noticed at the very end, was two blobs intertwining, with a little misshapen heart above them. Tony felt his throat squeeze, but continued to force a smile.

“Wow, baby. This is really nice. Do you want it in the fridge or in your art folder?” Tony bent down, picking Peter up with his forearm and holding it before the both of them. Putting his hand on his chin and looking up to the ceiling, Peter hummed softly as he thought to himself. He kicked his legs excitedly to exclaim his eureka, and made grabby hands towards the fridge. Nodding his head, Tony hurried over, picking off a magnet and sticking the paper under it. He took a step back, admiring the work from behind with Peter. The toddler incoherently babbled, looking over to Tony for approval. His father nodded at whatever was said, kissing the child on his cheek and setting him down to play.

Tony couldn’t help but to let that moment swell in his heart, and an infectious smile grew on his face. Turning to the sink, he began to wash the dishes, his smile wavering a bit as sudden hypocritical thoughts began to skip mournfully around his mind. He began to think of the events that happened last night, what he’d said, what he’d done. He told Steve that he wanted to try again. That he wanted to fix things. No, Tony didn’t mean what he said. He lied. There was no way that he’d ever try to rekindle lost relationships with that liar, and poor excuse of a husband.

Rather than his throat drying, Tony could feel an abundance of saliva forming in his mouth as a sudden mass grew on his tongue. His chest began to tighten, and sweat beaded down his forehead in thick, sticky drops. The plate in his hand shook, and Tony quickly dropped it in the sink to look at his trembling hands. He was falling again. Out of that wormhole. His suit was dead, and the bitter chill of space whipped against his chest. He was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to die. He was going to die  _ again _ . The sound of screeching metal rang in his ears, and suddenly, he was fighting for his life. No, he was fighting for his mother. He was fighting to avenge his father, who never knew he existed. He was fighting for the team that died because of  **_him._ **

Tony began to cough violently, his legs giving out unexpectedly. He tried to regain his balance by grabbing onto the sink edge, only for his hand to slip and his head to launch forward. He let out a pitiful cry of pain, wheezing out as the wind was pulled from his lungs. Shaking, Tony reached a hand up to touch his pounding forehead, a burning sensation caused him to squeeze his eyes shut. “No,  _ no _ ,  _ no _ , not now. C’mon snap the  _ fuck _ out of it!” He hissed to himself, arching his back as he collapsed fully to his forearms and knees, taking in loud, deep breaths.

 

_ ‘He’s my friend.’ _

 

_ ’We were a family.’ _

 

_ Tony reeled back his fist, sending two quick jabs to Steve’s face. He watched with hollow cheeks as Steve buckled over, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath. _

Two tiny feet padded into the kitchen, alongside two bigger ones, muffled by socks. “Daddy!” A sweet voice yelled, followed by a deeper “Tony!”. The ground shook a bit as the heavier figure kneeled, but Tony was all too aware of his inability to figure out who it was. His eyes were sealed tight, and he curled in a fetal position. God, he was being just- so- overdramatic! What Steve did is not worth the anxiety attack, since he clearly does not seem to be affected by his actions like Tony is. No, it’s not this serious. Tony is being melodramatic. Tony is being a child. Just like he was that week.  _ Tony- Tony- Tony- Tony.  _ Tony needs to get a fucking grip because his one and a half year old son is watching him with curious brown eyes that  _ Tony _ can’t just seem to say no to. 

Taking a gasp of much needed air as his attack seemed to dial down, Tony’s eyes fluttered open as they adjusted to the kitchen light again. His head was elevated, and the crying of Peter forced him to come to. A head popped into his line of sight, and he immediately realized what he was laying on. Sitting up abruptly, he raised his index finger to Steve as a warning. “Dude don’t do that. You’re gonna freak me out again.” Steve raised his hands as a means of surrender, before worry flushed over those damn baby blues. “I’m sorry, Tony. I heard you fall, and,” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling his confidence wavering. Rather than thanking him, Tony immediately turned to Peter.

“Jarvis, check my vitals.”

 

“You’re just having heart palpitations, sir. A result of your—“

 

“Yeah. I get it. Thanks.”

 

JARVIS hummed a response, allowing Tony time to calm Peter down before speaking again. “I’ve requested for Doctor Banner to come to the medical bay for further analysis. He’s understanding of your uneasiness, and is inviting Thor alongside him.” Too tired to retort, Tony nodded as he laid Peter on his chest, curling into the toddler and heavily breathing in the crisp, natural scent of the boy.

 

**_—_ **

 

Bruce Banner has been stuck in his lab for the past three days. Not because he’s been under the weather or anything ludicrous like that, but because he’s been personally assigned by some rather well known scientists to look into a chemical found inside of a gemstone in Russia. He needed something to keep his hands busy, anyways. Tony was busy battling his own demons as well as raising a child, and everyone else was gone.

Well, almost everyone.

For some reason that Bruce still couldn’t understand, Thor came back early from his trip through the universe, saying something along the lines of realizing that Earth needed his assistance far more than whatever out there did. That’s what Bruce didn’t understand. Thor has the ability to keep something from attacking the Earth again, with the knowledge of its impending attack, but he’d rather not take action…? No, there was something Thor was keeping from his team, from  _ Bruce _ with that sweet smile that made his teeth hurt. But, Bruce needed to have faith in Thor. They were what was left of the team, and they needed to keep it together. So, Bruce kept quiet. It’s all he could do. Everything was fragile, and the slightest ripple in emotional change left everyone on edge. So I’m sure you can imagine what went through Bruce’s head when JARVIS left a message for him to meet in the medical lab.

 

“Wait, what happened?”

 

The AI sighed at Bruce’s repetitive questioning, and Bruce couldn’t help but grimace at the sassiness of this new JARVIS.

 

“I think Master Stark would prefer it if he explained it to you personally.”

 

Sliding his safety goggles down to around his neck, Bruce nodded and slipped off the pair of gloves he wore, washing his hands and exiting the lab. He’d do a quick run to his room and change, then take the elevator upstairs to the medical ward.

As he finished changing from his casual clothes to a more formal wear of slacks and a shirt, Bruce headed to the elevator, looking at his watch and tapping his foot as he grew impatient. He worried deeply for Tony, Peter especially. If something happened, he’d never—

 

“Doctor Banner!”

 

A deep voice rumbled from behind Bruce, and he looked up only to be met with a smiling Thor. The God held a small white box in his hands, with a cute ribbon wrapped around it. “Ah, Thor.” A small smile danced onto Bruce’s lips. It was almost impossible to not smile around the guy. Or at least soften. He wondered if Thor had the ability to have even Nick Fury prance around in a dress. Shaking his head mentally at his obscure thoughts, he found himself making his way to look back at Thor.

“I was just coming to bring you this stunning cake Tony’s robotic assistants ordered for me. Did you know they could do that? Such adequateness for tasks like these.” He shuffled his way to Bruce, and it took all of the Doctor’s nerve not to burst out laughing at Thor’s desired attire. He wore nothing too preposterous, but the simple fact that a  _ God  _ was decked in jeans and an all too tight T-shirt was enough to make someone as deprived of humor as Bruce laugh.

Thor ducked his head bashfully, and shifted his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably. Bruce’s smile only broadened, and he gestured to the now open elevator. “I think that’s really sweet, Thor,” The Norse gave another beautiful grin. “I know just who’d love to eat it with you and I.” Bruce stepped in, and Thor followed, quirking a curious eyebrow. “Jarvis, let Tony know that I’m bringing Thor with me.” Bruce crossed his arms, sneaking a glance up to Thor who looked ahead quizzically as though his plans were foiled. Bruce’s smile hesitated, and he wrung his hands together nervously. For some reason that he was unsure of, his heart pounded in his chest, and a wave of intoxication flushed over him. His stomach churned with a deep, bellowing cry for something that Bruce’s body needed. He ignored it. 

The quiet, thick atmosphere between he and Thor was enough to drive anyone insane, but Bruce would rather spend his time analyzing everything. Thor’s eyes shifted around jitterously, which was an obvious nod to him being nervous about something. But what? What could have someone as big as  _ Thor  _ worry? 

Shrugging it to the back of his mind, Bruce tumbled out of the elevator and hurried to the medical lab, where Tony sat on the soft, examination table, trying to calm down a fussing Peter. Usually, he’d have Peter relaxed by now, but the sudden form of events that took place must’ve put him on edge. His ready eyes opened at the sound of the door opening, and his mood seemed to take a drastic shift at the sight of Bruce and Thor. Bruce froze, and his breath hitched, unable to move at the toddler making grabby hands to him. Peter wanted  _ him _ ? In all his years, he’s never been wanted by a child. But Peter has wanted him before. Just not right now as he cried his throat away. Thor jumped into action, placing the cake on a table and easing Peter from Tony. Patting Peter’s butt and shushing him, Thor began to pace around the room and after another minute or two, Peter’s cries slowly withered down to helpless whimpers. “I will remove the child and I from the room so you and Tony may converse.” Thor fixed the child on his shoulder, and exited the room, closing the door behind him. 

Sighing to himself, Bruce relaxed and grabbed a stethoscope from the wall, pulling up an office chair to sit next to Tony. “Hey. What’s going on?” He grabbed a pen from his breast pocket, crossing his legs and frowning. This wasn’t Bruce’s official line of work, but everyone seemed to think he was a  _ medical _ doctor because of his tag. He shrugged it off, waiting for a response. 

 

“Steve’s back.”

 

Bruce choked.

 

“He’s  _ what _ ?”

 

“I know, it’s bad. I saw him in the hardware store and—“

 

“You didn’t think to  _ tell me _ ?!” Bruce sat up in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 

“I’m sorry! I just- you were- I didn’t want to disturb you from your work. I thought I could handle it alone so I-“ He stumbled over his words uncharacteristically, running a hand through his hair.

 

“-Tony. We’ve been over this. If there’s an emergency, I’m always ready to help.” Bruce wheeled over to a cabinet, grabbing a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff. 

 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“So I’m guessing you had an anxiety attack?” Bruce huffed, standing and making his way over to Tony. He shamefully nodded, sucking in a breath and exhaling as Bruce slid over his chest with the stethoscope. 

Bruce wasn’t angry. Just frustrated. He should’ve been the first person to find out that Tony was y’know, hiding a fugitive in his facility. “Is it just Steve?” He questioned, taking the stethoscope from his ears and draping it over his shoulders. He cuffed Tony’s arm, taking his blood pressure as Tony gave another shameful nod. After getting his readings, Bruce furrowed his eyebrows together and turned on his heels to clean the stethoscope and place it back on its rack. He placed the cuff back in the cabinet and clicked a pen to keep from getting angry. 

 

“Who else?”

 

“Natasha and Sam.”

 

Bruce groaned, and threw his head back. 

 

“Hey, I’m just as frustrated as you!”

 

“Yeah, Tony, I get it. I’m just— why didn’t you feel the need to tell me!”

 

“We’ve been over this.”

 

“Oh really? I haven’t noticed.”

 

Tony slouched over, ducking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. The bed shifted as Bruce sat on it, patting his thighs nervously. “Tony. I’m upset, yes, but I can see where you’re coming from.” Tony looked over, studying the man’s pouty face. He chewed on his bottom lip, looking away and gripping the hem of his shirt. His voice grew tender as he snuck his hand to rest atop Bruce’s, his thumb running over his knuckles. 

 

“Bruce.”

 

“Tony.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Bruce looked over, eyeing Tony’s look of helplessness and sorry in his eyes. Perhaps a hint of want? Need? Tony wanted something. Of course he did. But what? Bruce’s face began to warm at the sudden attention, and his stomach churned with an unfamiliar heat. No. This feeling was familiar. He knew exactly what it was, because he felt it on the elevator with Thor. Bruce moved his hand, tugging on his shirt collar and gulping. His mouth dried, and he wrung his hands nervously. What was Tony trying to do? Seduce him? They were just friends, right? The bed grew lighter as Tony jumped off, heading to the sink and washing his face. Bruce furrowed his eyes together, his face only reddening even further at the thought of Tony wanting  _ that _ from  _ Bruce _ . He grew even more confused as he continued to think. A few minutes ago, Tony was suffering from an anxiety attack, and now he wanted to screw? Was Tony using Bruce as an outlet? The man scrunched up his face at the thought.

I’m Tony came back around the bed, a sly smile on his lips as he stood before Bruce, sighing and putting his arms on either side of the man. “So, Doctor? Your synopsis?”

“I think you should get plenty of rest, and focus on Peter. I can deal with Steve.”

“I’ve gotten plenty of rest, I just need a way to blow some of this steam off.” He raised his head, popping up Bruce’s collar. Bruce’s face flushed deeper, and he reached up to fix his glasses, gulping loudly again. God, Tony made everything so difficult. And hot. 

“Tony, I can’t. Your son is right outside those doors, and you’re not in your right frame of mind right now.” It was true, Tony just had an exhausting anxiety attack. His body needed rest, and not sex with the godforsaken  _ Hulk _ . Besides, he was almost positive that his friend would feel guilty afterwards. He was sure that Tony wanted to reunite with Steve, he just needed time. Bruce needed time. They were moving too fast. Wild thoughts pranced in his mind at the thought of their last sensual embrace, the feeling of Tony’s calloused hands left stains in his skin, he shuddered at the thought. 

“Listen, Bruce. I’ve been frustrated as hell lately, and I need a way to exhilarate my body. Please, just do it for me, like that one time.” He whispered, his face nearing Bruce’s. There was that feeling in his gut again. 

 

“There are other ways to do that, rather than trying to screw your best friend.”

 

“We’ve done it before.”

 

Bruce blew out a breath on Tony’s face, causing the other to jolt his head back a bit and squeeze his eyes shut. “Why don’t you work off that frustration by doing something else? Like working.” Tony pouted, lessening up to almost stand. “I mean, maybe. I have some modifications to my suit I’d like to try.” Bruce gave a thin smile, and nodded his head. “Do that. I promise it’ll make you feel a lot better than sleeping with me.” Tony scoffed, and folded his arms, standing to his full height. He clearly wasn’t too happy with Bruce’s denying of certain activities. 

 

“Who’s going to watch Peter?” 

 

Bruce shrugged, and his mind pulsed a bit at his next statement. “Thor and I can do it. He likes us.”

 

“Are you implying that he doesn’t like me?”

 

“Who would?” Bruce snorted as Tony punched his chest playfully, stepping back for Bruce to stand. He was going to forget that ‘Operation Seduce Banner for the second time’ failed. 

 

“So, about everything that just-“

 

He was muffled by a pair of unexpected lips, in a quick pecking motion. Tony was unsure if that was platonic or romantic, he barely had time to process that it was a kiss when Bruce sent him a tired smile. “Shut up about it.” He fixed his shirt collar, and shoved his pen back into his pocket, exiting the room to reunite with Thor and a babbling Peter. Thor quickly stood from his kneeled position on the ground, sending a sheepish smile to Tony and Bruce. “Mister Stark, will you be alright?” The formality rolled off of his tongue, and Tony sent Thor a nod. “Yeah! Thank the best non-medical Doctor ever. He fixed me right up!” Tony patted Bruce’s back, and the doctor stumbled a bit from the force. Peter hesitantly stood, looking up to Tony and sticking his hands out to be picked up. Tony did so, tossing him up in the air and catching him dramatically. Peter squealed, and stuck his hand into his mouth to muffle his giggles. Tony blew a raspberry onto the toddler’s stomach, and was rewarded with a kick to the face. 

Bruce turned his attention to Thor, crossing his arms and looking askew. “Tony wants us to watch Peter so he can focus on worrying about himself. He needs the break.” Though Thor looked in the least disappointed, he nodded, a meaningful smile dancing on his lips. After giving a brief explanation to Peter as to where Tony would be, the toddler was eagerly put into Thor’s arm, where he gave a cute wave to Tony. Bruce made eye contact with him, and rather than looking away, he smiled. A true smile. He figured that his work could wait a day while he got to know his nephew, and possibly knock some sense into Steve. Tony turned to leave in the opposite direction as Bruce and Thor, the two sending quick glances to one another. 

 

They forgot the cake that sat on the table, a little card tucked neatly under the ribbon with a message never to be read. 

 

**_~*~_ **

 

It was late in the afternoon when Steve stood back on the balcony, again he overlooked the buildings surrounding the tower, watching as figures moved from room to room, worrying about their personal lives. Steve wondered if they ever stopped living to reminisce on old times like he did. Probably not, because life goes on whether you’re in it or not. Nobody mourned the loss of Captain America. Hell, Steve wondered if his dismembership with the avengers was even public yet. He wondered if Tony spent all his nights wondering too.

The sound of light footsteps caught Steve’s attention, and he quickly stood out of reflex, only to be at eased by Natasha. Steve nodded, and sat back down, a frown tugging at his lips. He half hoped that it’d be Tony.

“I’m guessing this is because of Tony?” She gestured to his demeanor, and crossed her arms. “We can leave if it’s getting to be too much.”

Steve shook his head, his brows furrowing even further as she took a seat next to him. Natasha wasn’t one for solving other people’s problems, but Steve wasn’t just anyone. He was their supposed leader, so if he was upset, so was everyone else. “No, no.” He took Natasha out of her thoughts, and she rolled up her sleeves. “I want to stay and fix things. But I don’t know how. Tony won’t let me.”

 

“Forgiveness takes time.”

 

“Time hasn’t really been doing me a favor.”

 

Natasha clamped her mouth shut, and looked ahead, suddenly entranced by the vase on a pedestal. “What you did was pretty fucked up.” She began, her shoulders tensing. She wasn’t the right person for this conversation, and Steve knew it. “But, with the right persuasion and demeanor, I’m sure he’ll come around. Right now, you need to beat yourself back into shape. Nobody’s forgiving you looking like a soggy piece of bread.” The corners of her mouth twitched, and she scoffed a laugh alongside Steve. However funny as her last remark was, she was right. Steve would keep apologizing until his face turned blue. He needed his family back. 

He guessed his stubbornness was something the super serum didn’t change. 

 

**_~*~_ **

 

Finding a razor in his bag, Steve got to work on cleaning himself up. He’d just finished a long, hot shower, and he eyed himself carefully from the mirror as a razor slid across cream covered facial hair, leaving a clean spot in its wake. Watching all of his hair fall to the sink, a sudden weight was lifted from his shoulders as he smiled at the man in the mirror. It faded as soon as it came. It was undeniably fake, even Steve knew that. He looked tired, and worn out of the day’s events. He hadn’t seen Tony since he freaked out, and he wasn't about to finger his way through the darkness for his him. Especially with the tower getting remodeled since he’d last seen it. 

Steve cleaned his mess, sighing and feeling his chin for the awkward nakedness he now bestowed. Nonetheless, he felt clean and less guilty. He considered a haircut, but decided against it. 

Leaving the bathroom, he hurried down to the main floor, sliding onto the couch and looking up at the ceiling. He got a questionable glare from Sam, and a knowing grin from Natasha. He wondered what Peter would think. He definitely looked better, his eyes brightened a bit. Steve’s confidence would slowly come back, and he couldn’t wait. 

 

**_~*~_ **

 

A now repaired Dum-E delivered everyone their food that evening. Apparently, everyone was in different parts of the Tower, so coming together would be an unnecessary mess. Steve caught a glimpse of Tony when the robot whirred to bring Thor, Bruce, and Peter their food, Tony sending up a smaller portion of his own meal, as well as a bottle and a cyan teething ring. Steve wondered if Peter developed a new night ritual since he’d left.

But the trip that really caught his attention was when the robot whirred away to deliver a dish of food to Tony. Was he held in his lab? Steve prayed that wasn’t the case. Tony never slept when he did that. 

Sure enough, his prayer went ignored when he noticed a figure bent over an object, intently studying it. The robot knocked on the door, and it opened, Steve slipping in behind it. Tony looked up from his work to accept the food, nearly dropping it at the sudden sight of Steve. He scrambled to fix himself, clearing his throat and quirking an eyebrow. 

 

“Steve.”

 

“Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t forget to leave a kudos, a comment, and join the server if you can. I’d love to chat!


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